I Hate that I Love You
by DivineSerenity1
Summary: Lizzy is an undergrad at NYU who scored an internship of a lifetime at Bingley & Darcy, a prestigious law firm. Darcy is a hotshot no-nonsense lawyer. Though their relationship is rocky at first, love begins to blossom for Lizzy and Darcy. Once tragedy strikes, will their love last? Modern AU. Rated T for Language and Situations. Characters may be OOC. COPYRIGHT 2018.


**Summary:** Lizzy is an undergrad at NYU who scored an internship of a lifetime at Bingley and Darcy, a prestigious law firm. Darcy is a hotshot no-nonsense lawyer. Though their relationship is rocky at first, love begins to blossom for Lizzy and the handsome William Darcy. Once tragedy strikes, will their love last? Modern AU. Rated T for language. Characters may be OOC.

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 **Disclaimer** : Pride and Prejudice and all its characters are the sole property of Jane Austen. This story, however, is the property of the author © 2018, any unauthorized reproduction or publishing of any content of this story is strictly prohibited.

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 **AN:** This plot bunny just came to me one day, and wouldn't let me be until I wrote it. It's been nagging at me for a while. It seems I have a knack for angsty stories. I can foresee there being a huge outcry because of the beginning of this chapter. I only ask that you give it a try. I have a plan, trust me. :)

-DS

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 ** _Prologue_**

Elizabeth was exhausted. When she made it back to her loft, she immediately got ready for bed. Once in bed, however, sleep seemed to elude her. Frustrated, she got up and decided to try her hand at working on the damned assignment. After all, she knew it would make Jane happy, and just maybe she could get something out of it as well.

Grabbing her journal, she proceeded to sit at her worn desk, and pulled a pen from the cup holder. Placing pen to paper, she began:

'Dear', she started, before crossing it out. _No, not dear. You aren't dear to me, not anymore. No matter how much I want you to be_ , she thought, before she began again.

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Mr. Darcy,

I see you. I see you walking around town with _her._ Holding _her_ hand, and laughing with _her_ , like nothing is wrong. Like I don't exist. I've seen that lovesick look she has every time you're around. Like she's lucky to have you. Let's be honest – she is.

I see you avoiding me; keeping your distance. I see the questioning looks others give at your cold attitude. Making me feel like it's my fault, when really, my only fault is in loving you.

I see you casting your sideway glances. But like you, I just pretend. I pretend what we had never existed. I pretend that I don't know you, just as you do with me.

I see you sometimes, with a far-off look in your eyes when you're watching me. Are you imagining what life would be like if you were still with me? I know I do.

You know what, Darcy? Fuck you! Fuck you for leaving me. Fuck you for moving on and finding happiness without me. No, not happiness, because I know you're not happy, not really. I know you think you are, but I've seen the forced smiles and heard the tight laughs. If you were happy, truly happy, then I'd be happy for you. But you aren't, and we both know it.

I hate how rejected I feel. I hate that it feels like I was used, strung along, and dumped, without so much as a word. I hate that it's been over six months, but yet, it still only feels like yesterday.

I hate that it's your voice in my head when I'm training. 'Don't hesitate', was one of your first lessons; and I don't. 'No, Elizabeth, straighten your form. Drive your kick using your hips. It'll be more powerful,' and I do. I hate that when I'm fighting, it's your voice inside my head. You're always there, urging me to fight and not let go. And, I don't. I guess I should thank you for training me to be the fighting machine that I am today. But that's all I am now – a machine. The rest disappeared the day you walked away.

I hate the feeling I have every time I'm near you; like a magnet that pulls me toward you, a magnet that I have to constantly fight against. I hate that every time I enter a room, yours are the first set of eyes I see, as if I subconsciously know where you are. Maybe I do. I hate the disappointment I feel when you're not around. I hate that my favorite smell in the world is the mixture of your cologne and the scent that I could only describe as you. I hate the shiver that runs through me, every time I hear you speak. But you never speak to me, never me, right Darcy?

I hate that you shut me out and didn't even give me the opportunity to help you. I hate that you were hurting so much, because I was hurting too. I hate that you made my decision for me and threw me aside. I hate that you didn't trust that what I told you was true; I will always be here for you. But I don't know if I can forgive you for this. For the way you treat me. I hate that you accept Caroline, and allow her to be near you, to hold and love you. Why her and not me? I hate that you allowed your guilt to get between us, because really, it wasn't your fault. I could see it, why couldn't you?

I hate that I'm a shell of my former self; I'm not even the same with my friends, even though I try. I hate that the joy in my life left with you, because really, how could I have any joy without you? I hate the sorrowful looks Jane gives me every time she has you and _Caroline_ over.

I hate that I watch _her_ body, looking for signs of a telltale bump each time she passes by. I hate the swelling of hope that I feel when I see none. I hate that I wish that _I_ could be the one to give you children. I never even wanted children! Look at what a hypocrite I've become.

I hate that I have to see a therapist because Jane is worried about me. I hate that I have to write down my stupid feelings and 'let it all out'. What good does it do me? It doesn't change anything. I can't turn back time. If I could, I'd probably make it so I'd have never met you. No, that's not true. I would've made it so I'd have never lost you. But what good does it do me? To wish? To dream? It doesn't do any good.

Did you know I dream about you? When I do, it feels so real. I almost cry from the disappointment I feel every time I wake. In my dreams you're there, holding me, whispering sweet nothings to me while I sleep. I dream of Pemberley, even though I have never been there before. I dream we live there, and we're happy. I dream that we went back to England and told your family we're together, and everything's fine. Your family was happy that we are finally together. But no, it wasn't me who you went with. Did they ask for me? What did you say? Did you tell them we just parted ways? Did you tell them I didn't want you anymore? No, you may be many things, but you wouldn't lie.

Did you know you've ruined me for all men? I can't even have a decent relationship! I tried. I tried so hard to be with John. I tried to be the woman he deserves, but I couldn't. Every time he wanted to be intimate, I'd see your brown eyes staring into mine, not his. I'd feel your hands caressing me, loving me the way you did. I'd hear you whisper my name, 'Elizabeth'. I couldn't be with anyone that isn't you. John is a good guy though. No, he's a great guy. He accepted that we couldn't be together, and he was okay with just being friends.

I hate that I'm John's new drinking buddy and that I have to drink away my sorrows. But really, no amount of alcohol could ever let me forget you. I hate that I drink so much on my days off. Had I not shown any restraint (for Jane's sake), I would've blown my liver a long time ago. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse. Isn't that sad?

Do you want to hear the worst part? The worst part is that I don't hate you, not at all. Not even a little. I hate that I love you. I hate that I still love you.

Do you ever think of me, William? Because I can't stop thinking of you.

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 **Chapter 1**

 _The Beginning_

Elizabeth Bennet was running late, _very_ late. She was rushing, dodging every pedestrian she could, as fast as she can. Looking at her watch, she cursed her mother again for making her tardy. As if she really needed _this_ today.

Elizabeth was on her way to Bingley & Darcy, a prestigious law firm she hoped she could snag an internship with. She only got wind of it because her Aunt Maddie works there. Not only did it have the perks of working close to her dear aunt, it also had the benefit of it being a paid internship. She would literally be getting paid for an experience that would look excellent on her resume when she applies to law school. The catch was it was really difficult to get in, no matter what connections you have, not to mention they typically accept applicants that are in their senior year in college –Lizzy just finished her sophomore year. Nonetheless, Aunt Maddie was confident that Lizzy had a shot, given her credentials and her can-do attitude.

Elizabeth Bennet at twenty is the second daughter among five –much to her father and mother's chagrin –in the Bennet household. Although both Mr. and Mrs. Bennet repine not having a son, both have very different reasons on doing so. For Mr. Thomas Bennet, a tenure professor at NYU, he felt much like the only rooster in a hen house. For Francis –Fanny –Bennet, a stay at home mom, her old fashion views of marital life not being complete without bearing a son to carry on the family name. She also felt it was the woman's job to snag a husband. Though her views are quite dated, it does not make it any less true or important in Fanny's eyes. Hence why, Lizzy figured, her mother went to pester her on the day of her interview, making Lizzy most inconveniently late. Do not get her wrong, she loves her mother dearly, but at times she could even try her older sister, Jane's nerves –who Lizzy considers practically a saint!

Looking at her watch again, Lizzy wondered why she bothered opening the door to her mother in the first place. Her hair, that was painstakingly styled by her mom, was no doubt now in atrocious disarray due to its natural curl (meaning her unruly hair does what it wants, no matter how much brushing and products are used to tame it), and by the brisk pace she was running to make her even remotely (a pipe dream really) on time.

As Lizzy was quickly turning a corner, she collided with a man holding a cup of scolding hot coffee. Yelping in pain, she jumped back and was about to apologize, but was rudely cut off. "Bollocks!" Exclaimed the tall dark and handsome man with a British accent, brushing off hot liquid from his expensive suit front before abruptly turning an accusing eye on her, "Can you not watch where you're going?!" He hissed, his lip curling in disdain.

Lizzy's apology quickly died on her lips. The very nerve of him! He was the one who obviously bumped into her! With her hands on her hips she replied, "Obviously, _you_ were the one who wasn't watching where they're going! Don't they teach to look both ways wherever the hell you're from?"

"While crossing the street, yes."

She rolled her eyes, which brought her attention back to her watch. Seeing the time she said, "Look, I don't have time to be dealing with assholes' like you. I'm running late. Here," she handed him a ten dollar bill, "For the dry cleaning. You see, _some_ people actually have a conscious and aren't condescending jerks."

Bemusedly, he took the money as she turned on her heel. He shouted after her, but she kept running. She would definitely need to go into a bathroom and attempt to clean up as much as possible. Arriving to Bingley and Darcy, Lizzy was much relieved that her Aunt Maddie was waiting for her on the first floor.

"Lizzy! What happened to you?" Aunt Maddie exclaimed.

"I ran into an asshole that spilled coffee all over me," she grimaced.

"On purpose?" Aunt Maddie questioned with a horrified look on her face.

"I guess it was on accident, I suppose. It doesn't make him being an asshole any less true! Ugh," she exclaimed with frustration. "I would've told him off if I wasn't running so late!" Lizzy added vehemently.

"Well I'm glad you're okay." Her aunt placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder consolingly while leading her to the nearest restroom. "Come, let us get you cleaned up. Luckily the boss isn't in just yet."

After cleaning up, at least as clean as she could get, Lizzy followed her aunt to the waiting area where she was bid to sit down with the other internship hopefuls while Aunt Maddie went to the receptionist. Once her aunt returned, she leaned in to Lizzy before whispering, "It seems Mr. Darcy is running late. Typically he and Mr. Bingley interview people before an exam is administered to those who show most promise. You will all be taking the test now," she squeezed her dear niece's hand, "don't worry, you're going to do excellent. You were meant for this, Lizzy."

Shortly thereafter, they were called into a meeting room where they all were given an exam, a scantron and a pencil. They were given a time limit, and even had proctors to ensure there was no cheating. Any other time, Lizzy would be highly amused that she seemed to be taking an exam in one of her classes. Today, however, she just hoped she did well. She wasn't exactly expecting to take an exam, as her Aunt Maddie never gave her a heads up before today. Sighing, she turned the first page over and began.

Once she finished, she looked over her responses again, making sure she chose the best answer. Satisfied, she looked up to see most were already finished, and had a bored expression on their faces, as all cell phone use was prohibited while taking the exam. She felt a slight gnaw at the pit of her stomach; she took too long. Surely that was an indication that she wasn't adequate enough to be apart of this internship. As soon as those thoughts entered her head, she dismissed them. She had to stay in the right mindset; she _would_ get this internship. Sure, she was young, but didn't that show dedication? She was just as smart as the people present. She had the highest scores in all her classes, and her professors suggested she take honors courses next semester.

Once time was up, the exams and scantrons were collected, and all were asked to wait until bid into the interview room. After about fifteen minutes, the first hopeful was called. After a few people were called, there was some chatting, but not so much. Most were too nervous, and preparing what to say during the interview. Only those who were most cocky were chatting with each other, mentioning their many connections (all of which were well known and prominently rich), while gliding over their actual academic accomplishments. The sad thing is, she could almost bet _they_ would get the position. She knew her Aunt Maddie said that connections did not matter, but Lizzy couldn't help but think that, like most, the law firm would take more consideration over monetary gain than that of true merit. Shaking her morbid thoughts, Lizzy focused on what was important. She practiced possible questions and answers silently until her name was called. Standing up with trepidation, she quickly rubbed her sweaty palms on her black dress pants, and pasted a smile on her face. "I'm Elizabeth Bennet," she stood, and shook the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mary, please follow me. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are expecting you."

She was then led past a series of doors until they reached the final one. In front was a desk, she assumed was Mary's as there was a placard in front with the name and title: _Mary King, Administartive Assistant._ Mary walked passed her desk and knocked on the closed door. Both heard a muffled, "Yes?"

Smiling encouragingly at Lizzy, she then opened the door and announced her in, "Elizabeth Bennet is here to interview for the internship."

"Thank you Mary, please let her in," was all that was said in reply. Mary opened the door wider so Lizzy could step through. Taking a fortifying breath, she smiled and quietly thanked Mary.

However nothing could have prepared her for what she saw in the office, or rather whom. Turning into the office, Lizzy came face to face with the asshole from the street. Lizzy dropped her smile immediately, gasped, and was instantly pale.

"You are Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I presume? I'm William Darcy, your interviewer. Whom you might recall as 'the asshole' from the street."

Wide-eyed, Lizzy only gulped in response.

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 **AN:** Thoughts? Should I continue? Go ahead and leave a review. :)


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